


Sometimes...

by Lazchan



Category: Dark Is Rising Sequence - Susan Cooper
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will always visited the odd spots in Wales-- he'd always been into all the myths, but did he have to go to the out of the way spots?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a fic for a friend; she challenged me to write a Dark is Rising fanfic (and I incidentally got her hooked on the idea of the series itself now). This is chapter one of who knows-- probably two or three chapters. Will and Bran may have more of a thing later on, but for the moment, it's gen.

Sometimes, Will had to hold back from kneeling before Bran; his heart and soul knew Bran as his liege, even if the other couldn't—wouldn't ever—remember that fact. Bran would have called him his dewin, had called him his dewin, if he remembered, and that was what Will was to him still, even silent and watching as he was. Just as Merriman—Merlin—had been to Bran's father, so Will was to Bran.

Bran didn't know, of course—Will had never been expressly told that he couldn't tell Bran, but who would believe his stories if he did say something? Old Ones and Merlin and Arthur—of the time they were in the Lost Land, the Cantre’r Gwaelod. It was a fairy tale and Bran would be quite in his right to call him a stupid sais. Will would have rather been a normal boy at those times, without the knowledge, to be innocent; the youngest of a large family who befriended a lonely boy while recovering from an illness. To not look at Bran and remember what the other boy had given up. 

~

"They told me a sais had taken it in his head to head out this way, alone in this crazy weather, but I didn't believe them." Will turned around at the sound of Bran's voice, surprised to see him there. He had made sure that no one knew of his trip to the area, yet here was Bran. 

Will gave him half a smile, shrugging as he stood up. "It's kind of wild," he agreed softly, "but it has its own beauty. You Welsh can't steal all this type of scenery," he grinned. "Even those on holiday have to see the temperamental side of Wales at some point." He snorted. "Besides, how did they know I was English? Got a particular look about me, even from a distance?"

Bran grinned wide. "Not many locals head off to Cadair Idris, Will—good weather or no. It's always you daft tourists that decide a quick trip up the hill is a good idea. You know the legend about this place. We don't exactly go inviting his attention."

Will's look turned sharper, staring at Bran and then nodding slowly. "You told me a bit about him, yes—" he tried for nonchalance. The Grey King, the Brenin Llwyd, wouldn't harm him any longer; the Dark had gone as well as the Light. "Grey King or not, I suppose it is a bit strange of me to want to hike when there's such a bad wind." He came here for the memories, though—for the pathways that once opened. 

"Then get off this soggy mountaintop and come back to the house. Da isn't around, so there's plenty of space for you to rest. Unless you're staying with your Aunt Jen?" The inquiring tilt of an eyebrow seemed to already provide the answer. 

"No, but she'll give me an earful when she finds out I've taken it in my head to visit this part of the countryside and not stopped in to visit her." He smiled ruefully. Old One or not, family was still family, especially when he was still so young, still so close to them all. 

"Spare me from your Aunt Jen's lectures," Bran rolled his eyes, the tension from before loosening. "How would I get her pastries if she was too busy lecturing me to hand them over?" 

"I knew there was a reason you always came around," Will gave him a companionable shove as they headed down together. "It wasn't just to help around the farm, was it? You wanted to filch off my aunt's cooking." 

"Isn't that the reason why you visit so much?" Bran grinned. "Or have you finally realized how much better my Wales is than your England?"

Will snickered and shook his head. For this moment, it was easy to forget all that happened before and just be as he was now.

~

"Were you trying to connect with the myths, boyo?" Will looked up from toweling his hair dry, blinking at Bran. "Every time you come here, you're off visiting all the spots that have all the legend wrapped around them. Trying to find the Tylwyth Teg or something?"

Will snorted. "Think I'm touched in the head?" he asked dryly. "Didn't know you were that concerned, Bran." He tossed the towel back at his friend. "I just like those spots, is all. Don't you remember visiting them all with me when I was here that first summer?" His voice sounded strained to his ears, but he didn't know what Bran heard in it. 

Bran's gaze turned far away. "I guess we did," he said slowly, "but nothing too exciting, right?" He didn't seem to believe his own words. "There was a lot of running around and with you being sick and all, I was half afraid you'd tumble down a hill and there would be another sais, polluting our lakes." 

"The fire wasn't exciting enough for you?" Will managed a look of mock surprise. "And here I thought you were the quiet, sheep-herding type. I didn't know running through burning brush was a thrill of yours. Got a secret side to you that I don't know about?"

Bran 's mouth turned up a bit at the teasing, handing Will a cup of hot tea. "It's how we show off for the tourists," he said, expression mock-solemn. "Give them a bit of a thrill to show them there's more to Wales than sheep and the lonely men that herd them."

Will sputtered into his tea, nearly dropping the cup. "Get on with you," he laughed. "I don't buy that for a second." 

Bran grinned even wider. "Had to say something to get that brooding look off your face. Now, what is it, Will?" he asked, turning more serious. "You've got that look on your face like you've been contemplating the secrets of the universe again." 

"Just contemplating the Welsh language again," Will deadpanned. "I still don't know how you don't tie your tongue it knots some days."

"Ah, but you've gotten a lot better at it, Will," Bran made himself comfortable next to him. "Only a bit of drool this time when you try to pronounce Machynllrth." Will snorted at that reminder of their first meeting. 

"With all my visits here with you?" He shook his head. "I think you would have tossed me out of the country if I hadn't picked up a bit more since I was twelve." He took a longer sip of the tea. "And it helps to say the names right when you're traipsing off into the Welsh countryside and you get turned around." Not the Will got turned around anymore, but it was a good enough excuse.

"Not all the locals are as friendly as me," Bran agreed, smirking. "What if you got the wrong sort and sent you down the wrong path and you suddenly ended up in Caerdydd?" 

"I think I'd have the sense to realize I ended up in the south," Will said dryly. "I'm not that directionally challenged." 

"Well, you aren't Welsh—" Bran sighed dramatically. "You've got a mark against you for that alone."

Will just laughed as they traded companionable insults. This was almost enough—especially if he didn't think about the past. The selfish part of him that wasn't an Old One wanted Bran to recall something—some part of him had hoped that the trip up the mountain would have triggered something. 

They didn't talk anymore about Will's travels all over northern Wales. 

Perhaps the memories were meant to stay with Will alone.

~


	2. Oaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of after; if Bran regained his memory.

Don't own Dark is Rising; this is just a bit of a fanfic that I'm writing for a friend. Enjoy!

\----

 

"So, you're sure that you want to stick around here?" Will paused from his work in cleaning out sheep pen; after so long of staying with Bran, he'd ceased to be a guest and 'made himself useful' around the farm.

"Why?" he asked, pushing his hair back with his (hopefully) clean hand. "I didn't think there was a wrong way to shovel sheep muck. You, being the experienced one here can give me pointers if you feel the need."

That hand hadn’t been clean and Bran snorted at the dark streak now on Will's cheek and clumping his hair. "No, just thought it was a bit of a comedown from being a dewin to herding sheep in the Welsh countryside." He continued his work as if Will wasn't staring at him in shock. "Especially since it's not as exciting as before, seeing as the one you're looking after isn't doing anything more exciting than herding sheep. No waving about swords or battling lord of the Dark anymore."

Will swallowed hard. "Well, since they're all gone, I don't have any plans in that direction myself." His voice wasn't nearly as calm as Bran's was, but Bran had rehearsed all this just so he could come off as casual as possible. He looked away for a moment, weighing his words, struggling for the right thing to say. It made him look very human at the moment.

Bran simply waited—he had come to terms with his memories and all it represented; Will hadn't the luxury of knowing that Bran knew everything. It had to have turned everything on its head for him.

"Bran—I mean, you're—" He tried again. "Sheepherder or not, you're the one I'll always protect. I don't … I'd rather /not/ have the excitement from before. You remember it?" His hope was almost painful to behold. "You're not disappointed…?"

"Well, it's certainly not a throne room or a grand hall—but you won't find a nicer day this side of the Lost Lands." The sky was a perfect blue and seemed to stretch on forever, the clouds gently circling the mountains. "I think it's quite fine."

Will started to get his serious look back, coughing a bit. "Bran ap Arthur…" Will's breath left in a hiss. "Pendragon."

"Bit dramatic, aren't you?" Bran tried to make light of it, but really had to bite back a grin as Will went to kneel and nearly landed in a large pile of what they had just collected. Even then, his mood started to reflect Will's, just a little.

"Bran ap Arthur, as your dewin, I pledge all my loyalty to you and your line, until the end of time. My oath stands, by the signs of the prophecy." The overpowering smell of sheep made him sneeze and nearly ruined the solemnity of the moment. "Do you accept my oath?" The power of the Old One was around Will, but the faint quirk of his mouth belied his human side as well.

"Ah, well—having a sais for my dewin—guess times really have changed," Bran gave a mock sigh of disappointment. "I can do without the throne room—the sheep would just have more space to make a mess, after all—" He held out a hand to Will. "Stop kneeling among the muck, Will. Of course I accept your oath. You were meant to be my dewin long ago." Some of the king he was crept into his tone, his stance. "I'm not about to turn you away. We're destined, aren't we?"

Will smiled and accepted the hand. "Yes, for always."

Later they would talk about the possible repercussions of Bran remembering, of his life and what would happen after—but now wasn't that time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will struggles with the choice he just made....

again for Toni, who wanted a bit where Bran confronts Will about the idea of him losing his memories again. Wrote it at work... DiR does not belong to me.

 

It was clear where his loyalties lay; he had pledged his all to Bran, after all. But was it really wise of him to stay around as he was doing? It was killing him inside, the tug-of-war with emotions versus logic. Was Bran happier now that he knew the truth, or was it better for him before the memories had been returned to him? Will couldn't help that think it would have been easier for Bran to deal with odd Will, then Will the Wizard, the Old One—personal wizard to Bran.

"Maybe it would be best for you to forget again…" Will started, but the look on Bran's face halted that train of conversation before it truly started. There was more than just a little of the King that Bran was in his expression.

"You gave your pledge to me, Will." Bran crossed his arms against his chest and stared him down. It was very effective; Bran was taller than Will and pulled off the 'regal' act very well. Even without his memories, Bran was adept at making people feel inferior to him. "Are you going to break your oath? I'm not an idiot, Will. I knew what I was getting into when I accepted your oath."

"But—" Will had to protest, Bran didn't have all his knowledge; couldn't know what it entailed. And – "You can't—you won't—" He sighed, hair flopping over his eyes. "I don't even know, really," he admitted in a soft voice, honesty pushed to the front. "I’m not sure what this all changes."

"Shouldn't you do some research, then?" Bran raised an eyebrow. Surely with all the knowledge an Old One seemed to have…

"I can't!" Will exploded, pushed past reason for the moment. "The Book had nothing on what happens when the son of King Arthur regain his memory and his dewin," the frustration made the Welsh come through as clear as Bran's, without a betraying accent or a stumble, "gives an eternal oath to him." Will flushed with embarrassment, his words softening again. "Mae'n ddrwg gen I, Bran." The Welsh seemed more right.

"Idiot," Bran's tone was affectionate and slightly exasperated. "I already accepted, no matter the consequences."

"And if it still leaves me alone?" Will whispered, voice almost too low to hear. All the fight had gone out of him.

"Dw i'n dy garu di, Will," Bran smiled. "If we're using all the Welsh all of a sudden, I might as well say what I've been meaning to for awhile." He knelt in front of Will, pulling him into an awkward hug. "I know there are spells to fix that little problem if I age beyond your years, and also Will—" his eyes turned serious. "Three from the circle, remember?" he asked softly. "Already different, Will."

Will's lips turned up briefly, but it wasn't a real smile. "You forget the other part of that is that one goes alone."

"Never said for how long," Bran smirked. "And we can change the rules, Will. Me and you."

Will's gave a breathy sort of laugh. "Is it selfish of me to wish that my oath and your memories opened that pathway again for the both of us?" he asked. "That you remember and then at the end, we go together to where everyone is waiting?"

"A bit selfish," Bran smiled, "but I don't mind a bit. I feel the same way. I don’t want you running off on me and I don't want the holes in my memory again. Makes a fellow feel a bit important to actually know he's the son of a king." He grinned at Will's expression. "Not that I don't enjoy the sheep, mind you. A lot quieter than your average court gathering, I imagine."

"I'm sure," Will laughed. "Well, we'll take it as it goes and … and I'll find something, Bran."

"My father has Merlin, I have you, Will. If he gets to keep his wizard for all of time and beyond, then I suppose it runs in the family for me to want the same."

~  
Welsh:   
dewin--wizard  
Dw i'n dy garu di- I love you  
Mae'n ddrwg gen I - I'm sorry.


End file.
